Halloween
by North Polaris
Summary: Halloween 1981. Dumbledore informs Remus of James and Lily's death.


Halloween

Halloween. He didn't like the holiday. He had never seen the point in celebrating his own not-so-good reality.

He knew not that soon, very soon, he would have an even better reason to hate the holiday.

Remus Lupin sat at the kitchen table at his home, drinking tea and thinking. Someone was lighting strange fireworks on the horizon, and he could see Muggle children trick-or-treating outside. Ever since he had been bitten as a child he'd hated the holiday. "Ooh, I wish I was a werewolf!" he would hear them say.

'Of course they do,' he thought bitterly. _They_ didn't know the pain, the prejudice Lycanthropy brought. Yes, it had been better when he was at Hogwarts, with friends who liked him the way he was, and his secret safe. But school was done now, and even though he still had his friends ('they are in hiding,' he reminded himself, 'they have a mad psychopath after them'), he didn't have a job, because of those prejudiced Ministry gits, and that Umbridge woman. And on top of it all, there was a war going on.

The green fire lighting in the fireplace snapped him out of his musings, and as he stood up, he saw Dumbledore stepping out of the flames. The usual twinkle in his eyes was gone as he sat down on one of the chairs and beckoned Remus to sit.

"What happened?" the latter asked.

"I have some bad news, Remus."

"Just tell me."

Dumbledore sighed, looking older than ever.

"The Potters were attacked. Somehow, Lord Voldemort found out where they lived."

"But the Fidelius charm!" Remus couldn't believe it. "Sirius would never betray us!"

"That's the only possible way. Sirius was in hiding, and there were no signs of a struggle."

It had to be a lie; a bad joke. But he knew it wasn't. Dumbledore wouldn't do that to him. He buried his head in his hands; he was having trouble taking the news in. After several long moments he lifted his face again.

"And Harry?" he croaked.

"That is the strangest thing," Dumbledore said, looking sadly out of the window. "It seems that when Voldemort turned his wand at young Harry, the Killing Curse rebounded. Instead of killing Harry, it hit Voldemort."

"Is Voldemort dead?"

"No, I don't think so. He wasn't human enough to die."

"But," Remus stammered, "how did Harry live? He's - he's but a baby!"

"I have suspicions, but that is all." The old man frowned. "For now, I've put him at his aunt and uncle's, even though they might have some trouble getting used to his magical talent…" The Headmaster seemed to be thinking about something that he wasn't entirely sharing with Remus. "It's the safest place for him. He has to stay with his family." Remus nodded slowly. He wanted to take the boy, but his …condition… didn't let him do that. And anyway, if Dumbledore thought it was better for Harry to be with his family, he probably had a reason.

At that point, Albus Dumbledore looked at his watch, and slowly stood up. "I have numerous businesses to attend to, so with your permission, I'll be off."

Standing up as well, Remus nodded, feeling numb. "I - I'll be all right," he stammered. His former Headmaster walked to the fire place, and, after a last concerned glance backwards, his mentor disappeared in the green flames.

Remus stood for a while, still, unmoving, staring at the fireplace. And then it hit him, hard: They were gone. James and Lily. Two of the few people who understood him. Harry off to the Muggles. And it was all Sirius's fault. All Sirius's. Why? Why did Sirius have to hurt him so much? Why did he have to make him so alone again? Why?

Remus shook himself. There was work to do. Trying to put himself back together, he took the his empty cup off the table, walked into the kitchen, and started washing it. 'They are dead,' he thought for the umpteenth time that minute. The cup slipped from his hand. It shattered. This was unusual; he wasn't normally clumsy at all. With a sigh, he took out his wand, pointed it at the shattered remains, and thought, _"Reparo"_.

Nothing happened.

He repeated the spell, aloud this time, concentrating harder on the magic. His cup appeared in the sink, unbroken. Remus picked it up, and it broke anew. The cup was shattered beyond his ability to repair, as was his life. The cup, he remembered, tears filling his eyes, was one given to him by James and Lily for his birthday, a few months before Harry was born. Stumbling to the closest chair, he buried his head in his hands, and cried.

He now had an even better reason to hate Halloween.

* * *

A/N- Many thanks for Defying Expectations for her beta-ing.


End file.
